Fine, But Not Fine
Thoughts on vulnerability and connection
It’d been a while since I had Haitian food. The farmer’s market was super crowded, but there wasn’t any line at this food truck. The menu was scrawled out on a small white board listing a few items. I wasn’t sure exactly what I ordered, but it smelled good. We grabbed our food and found a shady spot to sit down and eat.
I had met up with an old friend. We don’t really know each other that well, but I’m trying to be social. The older I get, the more intentional I need to be about staying connected. Otherwise it’s too easy for me to stay at home.
We talked about work and what we like to do in our spare time, etc. He started talking about a girl he’s been seeing for the past two years or so. He seemed unsure about how it was going though.
I remember meeting his ex a while back. He mentioned that they had dated for 7 years. But things ended when he learned she didn’t want kids. He clearly did.
I said it’s tough finding someone on the same page. He nodded and asked if I wanted kids.
Now, it was my turn to start talking about my dating life.
I said, ‘yeah I would like kids’…but just left it at that.
We kept talking and eating. But suddenly the food didn’t taste as good. And I realized I didn’t share what I wanted to say.
I wanted to tell him that I really want kids, but don’t know if that’s going to happen. I wanted to tell him about the journey I’ve been on. I wanted to tell him that I’m not really sure I like girls, but am trying.
But I didn’t tell him any of that, so the conversation just continued. And I missed the boat.
In hindsight, I realize that experience was kind of like when people ask how you are, and you say ‘I’m fine’. But you don’t tell them how you’re actually doing.
This time, it felt a little worse though. Why do I do this to myself? I want that genuine connection, but sometimes it’s hard to share where I’m at. Sometimes it feels too vulnerable and I worry people won’t understand. Maybe it’s easier to not have to explain. Maybe I fear I’ll be judged or rejected in some way. I wasn’t lying to him, but I also wasn’t telling him the whole truth.
Honestly, it would’ve just been easier to tell him I’m gay and leave it at that. But that’s not the truth either. I want to feel seen, but I don’t let anyone see me.
I hate that vulnerability seems to be a prerequisite for connection.
But I suppose there’s a time and place for everything. It takes time to build up trust. I can’t expect to just share my deepest secrets with everyone. It’s fine; there will be opportunities to trust in the future.
Maybe I just need a little more practice. I’m just so eager for the healing that comes from being seen. Because if someone else can accept me, then maybe I can accept myself.